What Makes a Family
by justpeachie
Summary: AU: Bridgette and Félix's life is turned upside down with twelve-year-old Adrien is placed in their care. The foster parents find themselves falling in love, however, and together the three learn how to become a family.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is essentially an AU where Félix and Bridgette become Adrien's foster parents. Adrien (and thus, Marinette, Nino, Alya, ect.) are all twelve at the start of the story.**

Adrien was eleven years old, four months, and eighteen days old when his mother disappeared. One day she had been making him crêpes for breakfast and taking him for walks in the garden and tucking him in with two stories and a kiss at bedtime and the next day she was just gone. She disappeared with all of her favorite belongings; the blouse she wore on holidays, her comfiest pajamas, her makeup kit, her journal, a box full of old photographs. She only left behind her wedding ring, which Adrien's father found on his nightstand that morning.

(Adrien's father said she went missing, that someone must have abducted her. Adrien thought that her mother had simply fled, akin to a bird trapped in a cage.)

His father changed that day; the light faded from his eyes, a permanent scowl became transfixed on his face, and voice grew lower. Gabriel Agreste had never been a kindhearted man, but after his wife's disappearance, he turned into a monster.

Adrien originally sought out the comfort of his father. He had always been a sensory craving child, needing constant cuddles and touches and squeezes. His mother was indulgent and smothered the boy in tight hugs and kisses and back rubs. So when she was no longer there to provide him with this, Adrien naturally sought it out from his father. But when he tried to climb into his father's lap or give him a hug or hold his hand, he was greeted with a slap on the hand or a harsh shove or a verbal berating.

Adrien was eleven years, four months, and twenty-two days old when his father hit him for the first time.

It started as that, just hitting. But soon it escalated into punches in the jaw that left him swollen and finger-shaped bruises on his arm and concussion after concussion after concussion. His father slammed Adrien's fingers in the door when he whined, and would threaten him with a knife to his wrist when he cried. Manipulation and threats became a new constant in Adrien's life.

Adrien never told anyone, and he realized that he could, that he should, but he didn't. He would sit silently in the backseat of the car as his father's driver took him to photo shoots. He would smile and giggle when the makeup artists styled his hair. He would obey what the photographers said, and made small talk with the other child models. No one even questioned the occasional bruise on his face or arms. He was a boy, after all, and they were known for roughhousing.

Adrien wasn't dumb; he knew his father had power, that his father was in control. Even if he did tell, he doubted it would do anything to solve the problem. So he let his father hurt him, threaten him, control every facet of his life.

Adrien was eleven years, seven months, and three days old when he started hiding food. He stopped eating his meals and his the remains in napkins and baggies and hid them in his drawers. He imagined that one day he would pack up all the food and run away, and find a happy village where everyone was kind like kids always did in storybooks.

(The food always went bad before he worked up the courage to run away, however, and all he was left with was an empty stomach and a bundle of food to secretly flush down his toilet.)

He continued on with this habit, going days without eating and obsessively hiding his food instead. Even when the idea of running away was long gone from his head, he still stashed away his uneaten meals. It was the one thing Adrien could control.

Adrien was twelve years, one week, and six days old when a lady in a business suit showed up in his room and told him he was being taken out of his father's care. He didn't know how she had found out about the abuse or where his father was or if he would be coming back. All he knew was that he was being shoved into the back of a stranger's car with a hastily packed suitcase and he hadn't even been able to take a photo of his mother with him.

* * *

Bridgette Brisbois had always wanted a baby. She was one of eight sisters and couldn't imagine living a life without a large family under her roof. She married her college sweetheart, Félix, and despite his reluctance to have kids, he went along with it because it meant so much to his wife. But after six months of no birth control and daily sex and no pregnancy, they became worried. Bridgette started paying attention to her cycle, and having strict times when they needed to be intimate in order to have the best chance of becoming pregnant. When another six months passed, the couple finally sought help from a doctor who informed Bridgette that her fallopian tubes were blocked, making it impossible for eggs to reach her uterus.

In other words, she was infertile.

Bridgette tried to not let the news get her down, however, and sought other methods. The couple invested in in-vitro fertilization, but after two failed attempts they had to consider the fact that Bridgette may not be able to carry a biological baby.

While she was sad with this news at first, Bridgette just wanted a baby and they still hadn't explored all their options.

She considered international adoption for a short while, but the fees were far too expensive, especially after all of her savings had been spent on IVF. She got in contact with local adoption agencies, and eventually the couple was hooked up with a young pregnant woman looking to put her baby up for adoption.

Bridgette and Félix immediately saw this woman as their saving grace. They went to every ultrasound and doctor's appointment. They bought a crib and newborn outfits and bottles and diapers. They were ready to take their baby home.

But, as fate would have it, the woman backed out of the adoption just weeks before her due date. Bridgette was crushed, and a part of her wanted to give up. She couldn't deal with the loss of another perspective baby.

Félix was the one to bring up fostering. This way they would know whether or not the baby staying with them was in need of a temporary placement or a permanent home. Bridgette liked the idea of that- either way, they would get to parent a baby in need, and if things worked out, they would be able to take a baby into their family permanently.

They spent the next several months filling out paperwork and getting home visits and background checks and finally, finally they were cleared to be foster parents. And thus the waiting began.

Every day Bridgette anxiously awaited a call from their social worker. The crib was set up, there were baskets filled with toys and books, and the apartment was thoroughly baby-proofed. The only thing missing was a baby.

Weeks went by and they heard no word from their social worker. The social worker had explained that it may take awhile before there was a baby that would fit into their family. Many of the babies that went into the system had older siblings, and as Bridgette and Félix only had enough room to legally foster one child, they wouldn't be able to place those babies in their care without splitting the siblings apart. A lot of other babies in the system had medical needs and would be placed in the care of a family with medical knowledge. That left Bridgette and Félix with a slimmer chance of having a baby that would fit into their family placed with them.

After three and a half weeks of waiting, Bridgette received a call from the social worker around three in the afternoon. She was delighted, anticipating Clemence telling them the news that she had a baby that needed to be placed in their care. Bridgette was already wondering how old the baby was, and if it were a boy or a girl before she had answered the phone.

What Clemence told her instead was quite shocking.

"Hello, Bridgette- I hope this is a good time to talk," Clemence said over the phone.

"It's always a good time," Bridgette said cheerfully. "What's going on?"

"Well.." Clemence cleared her throat. "I know you and Félix were hoping to take care of a baby, and trust me, the first baby that ends up in our care that fits your needs will be sent your way."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here.." Bridgette said, her cheerful disposition wavering.

"But," Clemence began. "I have a little boy with me. He just turned twelve, and he's in need of an emergency placement. Every other family of mine is full or…unable to care for an older child. I was really hoping you and Félix would be willing to take him in. Just for the night, while I try to figure out where I can place him."

Bridgette was rendered speechless. As heartless as it sounded, she didn't want a twelve-year-old. She wanted a baby, had been longing for a baby for as long as she could remember. But she wasn't about to deny a needy child a place to stay. "Of course we can take him in," she said,

"Great." Clemence let out a relieved sigh. "He's had a rough day, I'll let you know. Police interrogations, a hospital visit..he's exhausted. I'll bring him over now if that's okay with you?"

"Now is great- we'll see you guys soon." After Bridgette hung up the phone she rubbed a hand over her face. She wanted a baby. She had a house that was ready for a baby. She didn't know the first thing a twelve-year-old boy would need.

"Who was that on the phone?" Bridgette looked up and saw her husband walking in.

"Clemence," she said, then bit her lower lip. "Um..so, she's gonna bring over a kid to stay with us. For the night. He's..twelve. And just needs a place to stay until she figures out where to place him so...I said yes..? I hope that's okay."

Félix looked caught off guard for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. "Of course it's okay. Here- I'll go get extra blankets and pillows from the linen closet. He can sleep on the couch." Félix was off in a minute, ever practical and always thinking and what needed to be done next. Bridgette let out another sigh, silently praying that the evening would not be a total disaster.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Clemence was knocking at their door with Adrien and his suitcase in tow. Bridgette and Félix went to answer the door together and plastered smiles on their faces. Bridgette had expected to see a gangly preteen who was likely angry that he had to stay with strangers. She was anticipating a night full of glares and disrespectful retorts and eye-rolls. Instead, she was greeted when a small boy who looked no older than nine, with his arms wrapped around his midsection and eyes gazing down at the floor. He was silent and stiff and looked about ready to burst into tears if someone so much as touched him.

"Bridgette, Félix..this is Adrien," Clemence said, her tone soft and quiet. She gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and guided him into the house. "Adrien, hon, you're going to spend the night here. I promise, they're a very nice couple and will make sure you're comfortable while you stay here."

Bridgette and Félix nodded to confirm this, but the boy continued to stare at his feet and not say a word. He looked exhausted, no doubt about that. Bridgette noted that there was light bruising over his left cheek and upper arms and that his face was gaunt and pale. She wondered what this poor child had been through to warrant him looking like this.

"It's nice to meet you, Adrien," Félix spoke up. "We just made some dinner. And we put some blankets and pillows on the couch for you to sleep with." Adrien gave a slight nod, acknowledging that he heard Félix speak.

Clemence cleared her throat. "Adrien, how about you sit down and rest for a bit while I chat with the adults in the kitchen?" Adrien seemed reluctant, but nodded and slowly moved to sit on the couch. Bridgette watched the boy for a moment before waving Clemence towards the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee, water?" Bridgette offered.

"No, thank you," Clemence said, taking a seat at their counter. Bridgette and Félix followed suit and waited for her to speak. "So, as I said, this should only be for one night. Hopefully, I'll be able to find a family that has room for him by tomorrow. But if not, he's old enough for a group home so I'm certain I can find one that will suit him."

Group home? Bridgette always thought of a group home as a place full of criminals and drug addicts and other brands of troubled teens. She couldn't imagine a little boy like Adrien being sent to live in one of those.

"So- may we ask what happened to him?" Félix said, voice low.

"Well..social services received an anonymous tip a few weeks back about possible abuse in his household. I'm sad to say that it took quite a bit of time before the case made it's way to me, but I went to investigate today. I arrived at his house and immediately things felt off. At first, his father refused to let me in. I had to come back with a police officer and a search warrant. His father wouldn't let us talk to Adrien and honestly, things looked pretty normal. No signs of drugs, the house was well kept.

"But his father just…gave me a bad vibe. So I insisted we check the security footage from the system his father had within the house and…well, it was pretty disturbing to watch. His father was arrested and taken to a holding cell right on the spot and I got Adrien. We spent the rest of the morning at the police station and at the hospital— as he had quite a few injuries and is malnourished. All in all, he's suffered quite a bit."

Bridgette and Félix were speechless after hearing Clemence's spiel. Bridgette wanted to ask what kinds of things they saw on the security footage, but at the same time wasn't sure if she really wanted to know.

"What's going to happen to his father?" Bridgette asked softly.

"I hope he's put in prison with a maximum sentence. But…his father is a person with money and status. I wouldn't be surprised if he got off with a simple community service requirement," Clemence said dejectedly. "Anyway. I wanted you guys to be aware of his situation- in case he gives you any trouble tonight or tomorrow morning."

Clemence went to stand then and shook both Bridgette and Félix's hands. "Thanks again for this- I'll call in the morning to let you know when I'm on my way."

And with that Clemence went to say goodbye to Adrien and departed, leaving Bridgette and Félix alone with the traumatized twelve-year-old.

The couple cautiously entered the living room, where they found Adrien sitting in the exact same spot they had left him in. He looked like he hadn't moved a muscle.

"Adrien…how about you come and we fix you up some dinner?" Félix offered. Adrien stayed still and silent for a moment, then slowly lifted his head and made eye contact.

"I'm not hungry."

"Can you try to eat a little, honey?" Bridgette asked, remembering that Clemence had said the boy was malnourished. "We won't force you to. But I'd like it if you tried."

Bridgette's gentle demeanor was apparently enough to coax Adrien off of the couch and into the kitchen. He sat silently throughout the meal and hardly took three bites, but Bridgette didn't feel qualified enough to argue with the kid over eating.

"Are you tired?" Bridgette asked as she and Félix washed up the dishes. "You can go change into pajamas and lay down if you'd like. I know you had a long day."

Adrien stayed silent, but when Bridgette turned her head around he was gone. She sighed softly, figuring he went to change and lay down on the couch. With the boy now gone she could look over at Félix and share a look.

"I don't know how to make him feel comfortable.." Bridgette said sadly.

"I know," Félix sighed. "He's only here for one night. It'll be okay."

* * *

It turned out to be the longest night in history. Bridgette and Félix were woken up on five separate accounts, all due to Adrien crying out in his sleep. They took turns creeping down the hallway to check on him, but as soon as their poked their heads into the living room, Adrien would cease crying and feign sleep. Neither adult wanted to push any boundaries, so they ended up creeping back down the hall and climbing into bed with a disinherited sigh.

The fifth time Bridgette woke up to Adrien's crying, she couldn't take it anymore. She hated hearing the boy crying and being unable to do anything about it. So, she threw off her covers and walked down the hall, and even though Adrien stopped crying the moment he heard her footsteps, she continued into the living room.

"Adrien..?" Bridgette said softly. She stood in front of the couch for a moment, squinting in the dim light. Adrien appeared to be bundled underneath a blanket, only his eyes peeking through.

Bridgette took a seat beside him on the couch, testing his boundaries. He didn't scream or visibly flinch away, so she took it as an invitation for her to stay.

"I know it must be scary. Having to stay at this strange house with these strange people, huh?" She forced out a weak chuckle, which Adrien didn't reciprocate. "I know you must be scared of some other things too. I'm not going to force you to talk about it, but you aren't alone here. You can cry if you want to, talk if you want to. And if you want to be alone that's fine. But if you don't- I'm here." Bridgette didn't know where these words were coming from, they were just flooding out of her mouth. But she wouldn't take any of them back; she truly meant it.

"I'm here, too," Félix said, having been quiet hovering in the doorway.

Adrien sniffled and kept his head down, not responding in any verbal or non-verbal way for quite some time. Just when Bridgette was about to get up to go back to her room, a small voice broke the silence.

"You can stay."

The three words were laced with desperation, and Bridgette knew she wasn't moving from her spot on the couch for the rest of the night. Félix made his way over as well and sat on the opposite side of Adrien.

Adrien didn't talk to them, didn't cry, didn't do much of anything. But he did eventually drift back off to sleep with his head on Bridgette's lap. She let herself comb the boy's hair with her fingers, the sound of soft snores filling the room. She found herself smiling fondly, this scared boy somehow worming his way into her heart.

"We can't let him go to a group home," Félix said, his eyes fixed on Adrien as well.

"We aren't letting him go anywhere." As Bridgette watched Adrien sleep, she was already configuring how long it would take to get a bed delivered.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for readng! In the next chapter I plan for Adrien to begin attending school where he will meet the rest of the characters. He won't be recieving Plagg until later on in the story as well. Leave any suggestions in the comments!**


	2. Chapter 2

The morning after Adrien was placed in their care, Bridgette slipped off of the couch and padded into the kitchen. It was early, only seven o'clock, but she called Clemence anyway.

"Hey- I'm sorry it's so early. I'm calling about Adrien," Bridgette started.

"Is everything okay? I was planning on picking him up around noon- I found a group home on the east side of the city-"

"There's no need for that," Bridgette interrupted. "Félix and I…we'd like to have him stay. With us." There was silence on the line for a moment.

"Oh? Well, that's wonderful- do you have any time restraints? I can work to keep finding him another family if that's the case," Clemence said.

"No- I mean…we want to see how this will work out. If in a few weeks we aren't able to provide him with the care he needs- then we can look into finding him another family. But…" she trailed off. "We'd like for him to stay."

"Okay- that's really great to hear, Bridgette," Clemence said. "I'll stop by a bit later in the day, then, with some more paperwork and forms. Is three good?"

Bridgette agreed, and after the conversation ended she went to her laptop and began browsing furniture stores. She wasn't about to make him sleep on their couch for the rest of his time here.

Félix slipped into the kitchen not long after, yawning and rubbing his eyes. "Morning, dear- Adrien is still out. Must be exhausted from last night," he said, blindly starting up the coffee machine before walking over to stand behind Bridgette. "What are you looking at?"

"Beds," she said simply, not taking her eyes off the screen. "I told Clemence we'd keep him here. I hope that's alright with you." Bridgette glanced up for a moment.

"Of course- I thought we'd agreed on keeping him here last night," he said, to which Bridgette nodded in affirmation and continued looking at her screen. "What kinds of things do twelve-year-old boys like?" she asked, having moved on to looking at bedspreads. "He's probably too old for superheroes, right? Do you think he likes sports?"

"Just ask him," Félix said, smirking at his wife. "We can sit down with him and let him pick things out. It might make him feel more welcome here, too. More at..home."

Bridgette smiled at that, glad that her husband was completely on board with them keeping Adrien in their care.

Bridgette and Félix spent some time bustling around the kitchen, making breakfast and drinking coffee and waiting for Adrien to wake up. The boy finally shuffled into the kitchen around eight, his hair rumpled and eyes droopy.

"Good morning, Adrien," Bridgette said cheerfully. "Come over here, we have some toast and jam for you." As expected, Adrien silently walked over and nibbled at the food, hardly making any eye contact.

"So," Félix said, clearing his throat. Everyone had finished eating and the dishes were done. Adrien had been anxiously fidgeting at the table, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "We spoke with Clemence, your social worker. And we all decided that you're going to be staying here with us for a while longer." That caught Adrien's attention, and he looked up, his brow furrowed.

"How- how long will I be here?" he asked, voice small.

"We don't know yet, hon. But…we'd like to see how you living here works out," Bridgette said honestly. "So- since you'll be here for a bit longer, we need to get a few things for your room."

"Things…?" Adrien asked.

"Mhm. A bed, a comforter, maybe a desk. You'll probably need some more clothes, some books. Things any boy your age would need," she said. Adrien blinked at her, then nodded slowly. "So- how about we go sit on the couch? We can pick out things for your room together and order them."

It took a lot of coaxing for the couple to get Adrien to pick things out. He kept insisting he didn't care, and that they could pick out what they liked best. A part of him still seemed convinced that he was just going to be there for a few days, as opposed to a prospective member of the household. In the end, he picked out a striped bedspread, a desk, a bookcase, and three of favorite books from various online shops.

Bridgette seemed so excited over every purchase, and Adrien made sure to smile and tell her "thank you" over and over, but he just couldn't meet her level of exuberance. He truly didn't care what bed or sheets or bookshelf he got. He had had everything he could ever need when he was living with his father, but it had never been what he wanted. He had wanted love and stability and happiness.

Now, all he really wanted was the picture of his mother, but he knew that wasn't something he could order online.

* * *

After an afternoon filled with a visit from Clemence and paperwork and calls and more paperwork, everything was finally official. Adrien would be staying with them indefinitely. While theoretically, this should have made Adrien feel more safe and secure, he just felt more panicked. Yeah, this couple was nice and seemed like they actually wanted him there, but he had always thought his father was nice, that his father had wanted him. Who knew when this couple would change their mind and turn on him.

When Bridgette retreated to her room to make a few phone calls and Félix had run out to buy groceries (and other necessities the couple deemed Adrien needed), Adrien was finally left alone for some respite. There wasn't exactly anywhere private to go (the kitchen counter was now covered with paperwork and file folders, the spare bedroom was still filled with a crib and other baby items, and he didn't feel quite like locking himself in the bathroom. So he was stuck on the couch in the middle of the living room, his "bedroom" for the time being.

He pulled his legs up to his chest and stared straight ahead, mind racing at a mile a minute. He didn't want to be here, not really, but he didn't want to be home either, and there just wasn't a place in this world where he could be and he was just left spiraling.

Adrien thought about what he had in his suitcase. A few outfits, two pairs of pajamas, two books he really loved (Sans Famille and Un Sac de Billes), a dingy stuffed cat he'd had since he was a toddler, some toiletries, and an old journal of his mother's. The only things that he really thought mattered when he had been hastily dragged out of his home. He was only now realizing how drastically different in size his belongings were now as opposed to just yesterday. His room (which was arguably the size of Bridgette and Félix's entire apartment) had been reduced to one suitcase.

He didn't exactly want any of the things he'd left behind, though. All those things, the computers, the basketball hoop, the movies, the foosball table— they had all been bribes to keep Adrien's mouth shut. They weren't given to him with good intentions. Just to ensure that he wouldn't go and tattle.

Adrien had no idea who had told social services that his dad was abusive. Clemence had said it came from an anonymous caller. He never did photo shoots where makeup artists or photographers could see his bruises, the maids, and chefs that worked for his father never talked to him. Maybe it had been Nathalie, his father's assistant. She had seen him battered and bruised on several occasions. Had brought him ice packs for split lips, put the balm on yellowing bruises. But she had never once said a word about what had caused the injuries, even though she had witness Gabriel hurting him right in front of her. He didn't know what would have compelled her to speak up now, nearly a month after his life had been torn to pieces.

He spent the better part of the next hour curled up in that same position. He declined Bridgette's offer for a snack and idly listened to her chatting with Félix in the kitchen. He didn't make eye contact with them as they bustled around the tiny apartment, putting away odds and ends. But he did get up when he saw the couple enter the spare room, the baby room, and shut the door behind them. He stood right in front of the couch for a minute, then began to walk over, one foot at a time, so he could press his ear against the door and listen.

"—just want a baby—" he heard Bridgette say, and his face paled.

"—still want to try and adopt a baby—" That was Félix. Adrien stepped back slightly, not wanting to hear the rest but unable to stop listening.

"Even told Clemence that we didn't want kids over age two—"

"—we don't even know him."

Adrien turned around and had locked himself in the bathroom in a matter of seconds.

* * *

After Félix had returned home from the store with groceries, he and Bridgette went to the nursery so they could pack up all the baby things. Bridgette had thought the whole process would be more emotional as if they were packing up things for the baby they never got to parent. Instead, it felt like they were decluttering, getting rid of old junk they had never used.

Félix had been tasked with disassembling the crib, which was harder than it looked. Bridgette was packing up baby clothes and toys and gear into some big brown boxes, all while mentally planning where all of the furniture they ordered for Adrien would go.

"I think the bed would look nice against the window- with the bookshelf next to it? We'll have to take him book shopping sometime to fill it up," she mused, folding up a drawer of tiny footie pajamas.

"He hasn't even been here one day and you're already sounding attached," Félix chuckled

"I am already attached," Bridgette admitted. "I just…if other foster parents have the same mindset we had at first, he would never find a family. But he's just a little boy- he doesn't just need a home, he needs parents. We can be that for him."

Félix nodded in agreement, lowering the support board and mattress to the ground and moving them to the side. "I feel bad…that we weren't even considering bringing in an older child in our home before," he said. "It was kinda selfish of us to think like that."

Bridgette sighed. "I mean…lots of parents just want a baby. And lots of parents can easily just have a baby. But—we already had so many obstacles when trying for a baby. And we never even considered that there are plenty of kids who need homes that aren't necessarily infants."

Félix began to unscrew the legs from the crib and hummed. "I don't think it's wrong to want a baby. Even now—if in some time after Adrien has adjusted we still want to try and adopt a baby. But we definitely should have been more open-minded from the start."

Bridgette finished packing up all the baby clothes, then moved onto the various rattles and plush toys and swaddle blankets. "Definitely. I mean- I even went as far as to tell Clemence that we didn't want kids over age two," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just glad she placed Adrien with us. I mean- if not who knows where he would have ended up."

Félix cringed at the thought of Adrien being placed in a foster home just as bad, or worse, than the home he had been taken away from. Or god forbid a group home. He would be eaten alive in there.

"He's with us now. That's what matters," he said, to try and ease the guilt Bridgette still seemed to be feeling about everything.

Bridgette nodded and finally finished packing away all of the baby items. "So…besides the bed and bookshelf, we also ordered a desk. But I still feel like that's hardly anything. What else could we get to make his room feel homier? Video games? Maybe a basketball hoop? Or a skateboard?" She suggested, to which Félix chuckled.

"Honey, you're just naming off stereotypical teenage boy things. We don't even know him- let's figure out what he enjoys, what he's interested, and then go from there."

Bridgette smiled sheepishly. "Okay, you're right. Are you about done with that crib?" she asked, standing up. "We can go put all these things in the storage unit downstairs." Félix nodded and stood with his box full of disassembled crib parts and the two began to make their way out of the room.

One their way out of the room, Bridgette could hear noises coming from the bathroom. There was a cough, and then some sort of strangled, choking noise, and she dropped her boxes on the ground without a second thought and rushed to the door.

"Adrien? Honey, are you in there?" All she got was another choking cough in response. Bridgette tried to open the door but found that it was locked, and her panic intensified.

Félix came over to stand at her side, looking worried.

"The door is locked—" Bridgette explained, wincing as she heard Adrien's strangled whimper from behind the door. Félix wasted no time; he took his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a credit card, and managed to unlock the door by jiggling the card between the doorframe and lock.

Adrien was curled up in front of the toilet, face white and sweaty as he gasped and choked on air. Bridgette quickly rushed to his side and wrapped her arms around him, despite the fact that he flinched away from the contact.

"Sweetie, you should have come and gotten us," she said, running her fingers through the boy's hair. "Are you gonna throw up again?" Adrien shook his head, not making eye contact. "Then let's get you tucked in on the couch. We can get you some medicine and juice."

The boy didn't make a noise as he was helped out of the bathroom and onto the couch. He didn't say a word when Bridgette and Félix tucked him in and made him take sips from a cup of apple juice. He just turned his back to them, and while he was quiet, Bridgette could see his shoulders shaking as if he were holding back sobs.

* * *

Adrien fell asleep by seven-thirty that night. Bridgette and Félix tiptoed around him before deciding to just call it an early night themselves. They kept their bedroom door open, anticipating another night full of nightmares and crying on Adrien's part. And they weren't wrong because by nine o'clock before either of them had even properly fallen asleep, they could hear crying from the living room. Bridgette was out of bed first, shuffling down the dimly lit hallway.

"Adrien?" she called out, expecting him to be half asleep on the couch, trapped in a nightmare. Instead, he was crouched in front of his suitcase, hands shaking and tears running down his cheeks. He didn't respond when his name was called, so Bridgette moved closer and crouched down right next to him.

"Adrien- honey, what's going on?" Bridgette asked, reaching out to hold one of his trembling hands.

Adrien finally looked up, eyes red and puffy and his breathing erratic. "I can't- I have to- I have to go—" he finally said.

"What?" Bridgette asked. "What are you talking about? Where do you need to go?"

"Go- I need to go- I can't stay here—" He was clearly panicking, and his panicking was making Bridgette panic.

"Honey, you're not going anywhere. You're staying here with us, remember?" Bridgette figured he must be half asleep and stuck in some sort of dream. "You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you." She kept her voice soft and reassuring, trying to soothe him out of this state. Félix had come out of their bedroom by now and was standing a few feet away, looking unsure of what he should do.

"I need to go- I- I can't- you didn't want me- you don't want me—" Adrien said, trying to pull himself away from Bridgette as he gasped for air. Bridgette held him tight though, and he eventually gave up and just slumped in her arms. "You don't want me. You want a baby- I heard you-you- no one wants me."

Bridgette's heart ached as she listened to his choked words. She pieced together what he was saying and instantly felt awful. He must have overheard them talking about babies, and likely misunderstood the conversation. She ran her finger's through the boy's hair and shushed him.

"Shh...Adrien..that isn't what Félix and I were talking about," she said once Adrien's sobbing had quieted down. "We were talking about how unfair it is that so many foster parents don't want older kids. And that it was awful that we used to want that, too." She spoke honestly, not wanting to make him upset but wanting him to understand. "Félix and I- we wanted a baby. And maybe we still might have one someday. But right now- we want you. We want you to stay here and feel safe and find a place you can call home. Okay?" Bridgette spoke in a soft voice, trying to keep Adrien calm.

Félix had joined them by this point, sitting on the other side of Adrien and wrapping his arm around the boy. "You don't need to worry that we'll change our minds, or send you back to your father. We want you to stay with us. So as long as you feel safe and comfortable here- this is the place we want you to call home."

The three of them sat there on the floor for another ten minutes, rubbing Adrien's back as he sniffled and let out the last of his sobs. Adrien's head was buried in Bridgette's shoulder and he was gripping Félix's robe and his limbs were heavy.

Félix and Bridgette didn't have the heart to pry Adrien off of them, so they instead maneuvered him onto the couch and curled up, readying themselves for another night of sleeping in an upright position.

"We should invest in a sectional," Félix joked quietly.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks to those who reviewed! Next chapter should have Adrien starting school and meeting some new friends (and reuiniting with Chloé).**


	3. Chapter 3

Boxes of furniture and clothes and books began to arrive over the next few days. Félix put together furniture, Bridgette rearranged the bedroom a dozen different times, and Adrien smiled (weakly) throughout all of it. Bridgette adorned his bed with comfy throw pillows, hung a string of lights across his window, and organized the clothes in his closet by color. She wanted Adrien's room to be colorful and comforting, but was still having a hard time figuring out what things he was interested in. He didn't seem to share any passions or favorite hobbies and activities with them, and she suspected that it was because he simply didn't have any. After a week of living with their foster son, they still hardly knew him. 

He didn't talk much, at least not about himself. He didn't share his likes and dislikes, how he was feeling, what his parents and life had been like before. All Bridgette and Félix knew was what little information the social worker had given them; that Adrien's father was currently on trial for first degree child abuse and neglect; Adrien had a history of concussions, severe bruising, broken ribs, and various neglected illnesses, all of which were suspected to be the fault of his father; Adrien's mother had left eight months ago and was currently unable to be found.

Bridgette and Félix also knew that Adrien's father was a world-renowned fashion designer, and that once the public found out about the trial, the tabloids were bound to be all over it.

None of the information they had about Adrien let them know what they needed, however. None of that told them what kinds of things would make him feel at home, keep him happy and well-adjusted.

So far, Adrien didn't seem to be very well-adjusted. He still wasn't sleeping through the night, waking up every three to four hours with nightmares. He picked at his food during every meal and spent most of the time hiding away in his room. Bridgette would bring in art supplies and try to get him to do projects, or set up board games, or entice him with video games, and while Adrien would sit with her and go along, he never seemed very interested in any of the little activities.

On the eighth day of Adrien joining their family, Bridgette was set to go back to work. Both she and Félix had planned to take off work until Adrien began school, but she had so many clients that were backed up and needed to catch up. She figured it would be fine, seeing as Félix would be home with Adrien all day. Said boy was sleeping (for once) while the adults had their breakfast and coffee.

"What do you think you'll do with Adrien today?" Bridgette asked as she finished up her tartine. Aside from a quick trip to the social worker's office complex where Adrien had received a counseling session, they had not taken him out of the house. Mostly because he was always tired from not sleeping well at night and never seemed up to doing much, but also because they didn't know what kinds of things to do with kids his age.

"I don't know.." Félix admitted, sipping his coffee. "It's not like there's much to do with him. I can't exactly, say, take him to the park or the library to play. Maybe I'll work at getting him enrolled in school." They had been putting that off so far; he had been homeschooled when living with his father, meaning that he needed to take a load of placement tests to go to a public school.

"That's a good idea," Bridgette said. "It'll be good for him to have contact with kids his age." Bridgette finished up her last bite and then brought her dishes to the sink. She wiped her face with a napkin before going over to peck Félix on the cheek. "I should be home around four or five. I hope you guys have a good day." Félix gave her a quick kiss goodbye and then Bridgette took off.

* * *

Adrien woke up only thirty minutes after Bridgette had left. He had been getting into a routine by this point. He would wake up and listen for Bridgette and Félix chatting and laughing in the kitchen, a sign that they were awake and making breakfast. He would then quietly trek into the kitchen and greet them, would sit at the counter as they all ate together, and then they would all depart to get dressed. That morning when he woke, however, he didn't hear their voices like usual. There wasn't a clock in his room and his phone was in his desk drawer, so he just laid in bed, figuring he had woken up earlier than usual. He waited and waited for their voices to fill the kitchen, but it never came.

After a long time, he had to use the restroom and finally had to get out of bed. On his way down the hall to the restroom, he saw Félix sitting in the living room on his laptop.

"Good morning, Adrien," Félix said. Adrien waved slightly, then furrowed his brow. Where was Bridgette? Why weren't they making breakfast like usual? His head rang with questions as he went to the restroom, and an uncomfortable feeling grew in his chest.

He washed his hands and went to the kitchen; maybe she was in there? Maybe Félix had to do something and she was making breakfast alone? But no, the kitchen was empty, no trace of Bridgette at all.

"Here." Adrien turned around with a start when he heard Félix's voice. "Bridgette and I just made tartines for breakfast. There are a few cheese and berry ones left, and one Nutella one left for you." He gestured to the counter where the plate of tartines was laid.

"Where's Bridgette?" Adrien asked, making no move to go to the counter.

"She went in to work today," Félix said simply, walking over to the cabinet to get a cup. "She'll be home around four or five, so it'll be just you and me today."

Félix went on talking about what he planned on them doing today, but Adrien hardly heard anything. His head continued to rush. He was being irrational and he knew that, but he wanted Bridgette to be home like she usually was. He wanted them to all eat breakfast together, for him to listen to Bridgette and Félix chatter and laugh, for everything to be how it was supposed to be.

"Adrien?" Adrien whipped his head up, seeing Félix standing in front of him. "What's wrong?"

Adrien wasn't crying, not really, but he had tears welled up in his eyes and his face was flushed. The boy clenched his firsts at his sides and tried to compose himself, but only grew more upset.

"Adrien?" Félix repeated. "What's going on, kiddo? Did something happen?"

"Where's Bridgette?" Adrien finally choked out, his voice croaky.

Félix furrowed his brow. "I told you, she's at work," he said, seemingly confused over why that would make him upset.

"She- she-" Adrien sniffled and wrapped his arms around himself. "She's supposed to be here!" He felt like sitting down in the middle of the kitchen and just sobbing. Why couldn't Félix see that this wasn't right? Bridgette needed to be right here, eating breakfast with them. She was supposed to be home with them, she wasn't supposed to leave.

Félix moved to crouch down in front of Adrien, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "She isn't going to be gone for long. She'll come home and we'll all eat dinner together like normal," he said, voice calm. "She still cares about you, she just had to go in to work today."

Adrien nodded a little and wiped at his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. Félix stood and guided Adrien to the counter, and sat beside him as Adrien picked through his breakfast.

The rest of the day went by rather uneventfully; Adrien laid on the couch for most of the morning, blankly staring at the tv while Félix went about calling the local collège and setting up dates for later in the week where they could go in and fill out paperwork and have Adrien take placement tests. They ate lunch, then Adrien napped in his room for a few hours.

Around four, when Bridgette got home, Félix stood up to go and give her a kiss in greeting. Adrien ran right past Félix, however, having heard the front door open. The little boy raced into Bridgette and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

Bridgette gently placed her arms around Adrien in return, but looked up at Félix with a surprised expression. Félix didn't look too surprised, however. He silently whispered, "He missed you," in explanation, to which Bridgette's face softened and her hug tightened.

* * *

Three days later, Adrien was all set to go to school. He had done great on all of the placement tests; due to the abuse and neglect he'd suffered, Bridgette and Félix were sure he was going to fall behind his age level. Surprisingly, he'd succeeded on questions designed for students well over his grade level, highlighting intelligence they had not known about. Despite being ready to enter lycée based on his test scores, he was still going to be placed into sixième with other students his age, due to the fact that his social skills were quite subpar.

Bridgette had taken Adrien out shopping for a backpack and school supplies. She tried to stay enthusiastic the whole time, but Adrien dragged his feet and looked less than thrilled about the whole ordeal. The night before his first day of school, Bridgette packed his backpack, helped him pick out on outfit, and showed him the directions from school to their apartment so that he could walk home and eat lunch with them. Bridgette was excited; sure, it wasn't going to be filled with those cute chalkboard Pinterest photos, but it was still her child's first day of school,

Adrien was nervous about starting school, however. Scratch that, he was terrified. He didn't eat a bite of his dinner (he instead slid the two slices of bread into a napkin to hide in his dresser), afraid that he would throw it back up. He quietly slipped into bed around nine like usual, but didn't say goodnight or wait for Bridgette and Félix to tuck him in. He just curled up under the blankets and stared at the wall, his mind spinning.

The only person his age he'd ever interacted with was Chloé. Was Chloé even going to be at this school? He hadn't talked to her in a year, maybe she didn't even like him anymore. Everyone else probably had friends and wouldn't want him to join them. What if he got lost, and no one wanted to give him directions to his class? Before Adrien knew it, he was sniffling and crying silently in his bed.

He was too consumed in his thoughts to hear Bridgette open the door and slip into his room with the intention of tucking him in. He did notice when she sat down on the edge of his bed, though, as he felt the mattress dip. Adrien held in his breath, hoping she hadn't noticed him crying.

"Honey," she said. It had been too late- she heard the sniffling and quiet whimpers the moment she entered the room. "Are you feeling a little scared?"

Adrien nodded, not looking up at her.

"It's okay to be scared…change can be pretty scary," she said, reaching over to pull back the covers so she could see his face. "But change can also be good. Can you tell me why you're scared?"

Adrien stayed silent for awhile, his throat aching. "I- I won't know my way around- what if I get lost?" he finally whispered, to which Bridgette chuckled softly.

"Félix and I will help walk you to your first class. And once you get there, you'll just stick with your class for the rest of the day. If you just follow them, you should be okay," she assured Adrien.

"B-but- I won't know anyone," he said, turning to look at her.

"No, you won't. But you'll get to know everyone. After a week of being there, I'm sure you'll feel more comfortable around your classmates."

Adrien shook his head; Bridgette was making this sound so simple, so easy, but it wasn't. It was awful and terrifying and his head was still spinning. "They won't like me-" he said, his face red and hot with anxiety. "They won't- they'll all think I'm weird and- and I won't be able to talk to anyone and—" his voice gave out as he choked back another sob, to which Bridgette pulled Adrien up and into her arms.

"Hey, hey…it's okay, deep breaths.." Bridgette said, her voice still calm and soothing. "Adrien…I know this is scary. There are gonna be a lot of kids and yeah, some of them might not like you. But some of the might really like you. Sometimes we have to take a chance, and see what might happen." Adrien stayed quiet, just resting comfortably in her arms.

"So maybe the whole class will hate you. Maybe they'll think you're…smelly and have a funny voice," she said, to which Adrien giggled ever so slightly.

"I'm not smelly."

"Well, I couldn't think of any bad things about you- I happen to like you too much," Bridgette said with a chuckle. "So, yeah, maybe the whole class won't like you. Or- maybe the entire class will think you're the coolest person to ever walk in their classroom doors and they'll all want you to be their friend—"

Adrien rolled his eyes.

"Or, more realistically, most of the kids won't really care one way or another about you joining the class, maybe one or two kids will think you're really smelly, and a couple of kids will think you're really awesome. And those kids who think you're awesome might just become your friends," she said, brushing back Adrien's hair from his forehead. "But you'll never know unless you go to school. If you don't go, you might never meet those kids who will become your friends."

Adrien looked up at Bridgette after a moment, his features much more relaxed. "You- so you really think it'll be okay?"

Bridgette nodded. "It won't be perfect. It might not even be great. But it will be okay," she said.

Adrien accepted that answer; he put his head back down and snuggled into Bridgette's arms, letting his foster mother hold him until his eyes drooped shut and his limbs became heavy. Once Adrien was half asleep and Bridgette had lost all feeling in her legs, she gently lowered him back down into his bed and tucked him in.

"Everything will be alright," she said softly, brushing her thumb over Adrien's cheek and gazing over him for a moment before getting up and exiting his room.

* * *

True to her word, Bridgette and Félix walked in with Adrien on his first day of school. They met up with the principal who gave Adrien his locker number and class schedule, and then the three set off to find Adrien's classroom. Part of Adrien felt even more anxious and embarrassed because other kids certainly didn't have parents walking them to their class. But he was also thankful that he could sort of hide in between them and not have to directly face any fellow students.

When they stopped just outside of Mlle. Bustier's classroom, Adrien hung his head down. Now was the point when Bridgette and Félix would have to leave, the point where Adrien would be all on his own. After spending eleven consecutive days with his new foster parents at his side, he was starting to feel…clingy. He had never felt this safe and secure around parents before and he knew that at school he would no longer have that same feeling of protection surrounding him.

"I hope you have a good day," Félix said, gently patting Adrien on the shoulder.

"I do, too. We'll see you around noon for lunch," Bridgette said cheerily. "You have our numbers, so text or call if you get lost on your way home. We can't wait to hear how your morning goes." Bridgette leaned down to pull him into a hug, and before Adrien even had the chance to protest their leaving, they turned and began walking away.

And then Adrien was alone, standing outside an unfamiliar classroom in an unfamiliar hallway in an unfamiliar school. He stared at the door in front of him. Inside, he could hear the excited chattering of kids. Part of him wanted to go inside, to see what it would be like to be inside of an actual classroom. But he couldn't bring himself to open that door.

Adrien was still staring at the door when a boy his age bumped into him.

"Sorry, dude," the boy said, turning to face Adrien. "Hey, are you lost?"

Adrien was silent. He stared at the boy and while in his head he was saying, "No, I'm new and this is my classroom," the words just didn't come out of his mouth.

"Oh, hey! Are you the new student Mlle. Bustier was talking about?" The boy didn't say it in an accusatory way; in fact, he was smiling as he spoke, as if he were excited about the arrival of a new student.

Adrien still didn't speak, but he did nod his head.

"Then come inside! You're gonna be sitting next to me, actually. I'm Nino, by the way," he said, jutting out his hand towards Adrien's chest.

"A-Adrien," he said softly, putting out his own hand and shaking Nino's.

The other boy grinned and then pushed open the door with enthusiasm. He looked about ready to bolt over to his desk and start chatting, but he waited for Adrien to quietly enter the door behind him. Nino waved for Adrien to follow him once they were inside the classroom, walking over to a desk in the front row. Nino slid in on one side, then patted the empty portion of the bench.

"Your seat is here," he said. Adrien nodded and took his seat after setting his bag on the ground beside him.

So far, no one had really paid much attention to his arrival. They were all too wrapped up in their own conversations to make note of the new student. That is, until Chloé waltzed into the classroom.

At first, Adrien was actually excited when he saw Chloé enter. They had been best friends as children and so long as he personality hadn't drastically changed, he was sure she would hover over him and make sure he felt comfortable in class. She had always treated him like a baby, and while it was sometimes annoying, he wouldn't mind that treatment right about now.

But Adrien noticed the change in mood from the rest of the class. Their chattering died down a notch, and everyone seemed to be purposefully not looking in Chloé's direction.

"Adrikins!" That is, until she squealed out his childhood nickname and ran over to his seat. Adrien was soon wrapped up in a hug that hurt his ribcage. "Gah, I haven't seen you in so long! What are you doing here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Chloé pulled away and used her fingers to sweep back his hair, already taking control over him.

"I- I didn't know you were in my class.." Adrien said softly, hanging his head down. Everyone was staring at them now, and he hated it.

"Well you should have told me. C'mere, let me get you away from this loser. You can sit next to me," she said. That made Adrien furrow his brow; why had she called Nino a loser? He had been so nice so far.

"You should have told me you were friends with Chloé," Nino said, a hint of disgust evident in his voice. Adrien lifted his head to look over at Nino, then looked back at Chloé. His eyes trailed off to glance at the students to his left, and he found that they were sporting expressions similar to Nino's.

"Adrikins. Come here," Chloé barked. She reached over and grabbed his arm, yanking him up rather harshly and forcing him into a seat across the aisle.

Adrien glanced over at Nino, only to find him sitting with his head pointedly faced away from Adrien and his arms crossed over his chest. Adrien remembered what Bridgette had said the previous night, about how it was unlikely that the entire class would hate him. But here he was, sitting next to Chloé, with the entire class regarding him in a disapproving manner.

He wished they hated him because he was smelly. That at least was something fixable. Chloé was not.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading! Suggestions as to how the story should go on are welcome :)**


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